Dark Forces
by ginnynharry4eva
Summary: Dark magic surrounds Ron's house as someone in his family tragically dies... but who is to blame? Is Ginny hiding a secret or is Ron's imagination going crazy?
1. Dark Model

Chapter One: Dark Model 

Harry Potter was not at Privet Drive for his seventeenth birthday this time. He was at The Burrow, home of his best friend Ron's family. Ron's family was really poor, but their house was the best house Harry had even visited. A ghoul lived in the attic in the bedroom above Ron's room. Harry loved looking out of Ron's bedroom window at the gnomes. These trouble making gnomes loved to bury deep down into the lawn. This caused trouble for the Weasley family, because they had different opinions of the gnomes. Mr Weasley loved them but Ginny and Mrs -Weasley hated them.

Harry didn't care about the gnomes, now. He was in the middle of the best birthday celebration of his life. He had opened all his presents. He looked at Mrs Weasley guiltily. "Mrs Weasley, you didn't need to buy me polishing wax for my broomstick. It costs a lot of money. I know because Hermione told me."

Mrs Weasley shoved a stack of jammy buttered toast into his lap. "Eat it. Harry, listen, I bought you that wax because I know you have a broomstick. I overheard you telling Hermione that you were out of wax, so I bought some more for you. I think you ought to be grateful because that cost me eleven Galleons."

"I am grateful, Mrs Weasley, don't worry about that. But you really didn't need to buy me some, because I know your family is - um - well, that you don't have much money." Harry held his breath and looked at Ron, whose face now held a shocked but surprised expression merged with a weak smile.

"I know, Harry." Mrs Weasley raised her eyebrows.

There was a horrible silence after that. Soon it was broken by the doorbell. "Ah, that must be Ginny. She said she was going to pick up Luna."

She went over to the door and opened it. Harry looked at Mrs Weasley's clock, and noticed Ginny's picture was not on there. He looked at Ron, and pointed to the clock. "Where's Ginny's - "

He didn't get to finish his sentence, because Ron cut him off. Mrs Weasley was looking quizically at both of them. "Never mind about that, I'll ask later," Harry hissed in Ron's ear, smiling at Mrs Weasley. She smiled back at him and turned to Ginny. Ron frowned.

"Mum, is it okay if Harry and Hermione come upstairs with me?"

Mrs Weasley, who was in the middle of smoothing Ginny's hair down, turned round. "Of course. Only, please take Luna up with you and show her where she is going to be sleeping. Ginny's room." Luna hoisted her backpack onto her shoulder and Ginny looked at her mother in horror.

"Mum, please can you make other - "

"Not now, Ginny, I'm trying to dry your hair," Mrs Weasley said absent-mindedly. "Thanks, Ron, for showing Luna her room for the duration of her stay." Ginny whimpered as Mrs Weasley ran a brush through a tangle. "Don't be such a baby. Ron, I know you have not shown her yet but I'm thanking you in advance."

Ron nodded and started up the stairs. Luna followed. "Oh, Harry," she called. "I was going to tell you that my father has seen another Crumple-Horned Snorcack near Scotland, and he told me to tell you." Harry smiled. He was used, now, to the silly creatues that exsisted in Luna's world and inside her head.

Hermione appeared next to Luna. "Harry, do you know anything about the plans of Lord Voldemort?"

It was surprising that a question like that had come out of the blue, and from Hermione's mouth. Luna looked at Hermione like Hermione was a lunatic. Harry merely smiled. "No, I don't know anything yet. But the Daily Prophet will come today, and we can look then."

Hermione nodded, reassured.

Ron, however, had red ears. He wasn't embarassed, just surprised. "I can't believe you're paying for that rubbish. You'd do better to get a decent magazine like the Quibbler, that prints a few lies but mostly the truth."

Luna smiled.

"Thanks for talking about my father's magazine like that, Ron, I admire you." She held up the recent edition and handed it to Harry. "See if you can find anything in there. Keep it for a long as you like, but make sure you give it back to me before we are at Hogwarts."

Harry nodded.

"I will. Thank you."

Harry took the magazine from her.

Ron stopped at Ginny's bedroom, shoved Luna in and closed the door. "Leave her to make herself at home," he muttered to the rest of the party on the stairs. "Come on, let's get to my bedroom. Hermione, I hope you don't mind but you have to sleep in my room this time."

Hermione, who, secretly, had always wanted to sleep in the same room as Ron so she could record him snoring and then replay the tape at breakfast, shook her head. "No. It will be a pleasure."

Ron nodded, and opened the door to his room. Pig was on the windowsill, hooting shrilly. Ron tossed Pig a few owl treats. Pig flew out of the window, moaning happily with a full stomach. "Stupid as ever," Ron said. "Hermione, put your stuff next to the wardrobe. Harry, put your stuff there too. I can't be bothered to make the beds yet, we've got ages before it's dark. I want to show you something I made."

"I was going to read a book and try and learn advanced magic, but I guess I can see this thing you made. It better be good. Otherwise I will go back to reading." Hermione wrinkled her nose. Ron, who thought Hermione read too much, said nothing as he didn't want to ruin his chances to show her how good he was with a glue gun.

He went to the wardrobe and brought out a box. Hermione hand reached for the lid, but Ron slapped it away. "Looking is not permitted until I say so." Harry thought for a horrible second that Ron sounded like Percy. He was Ron's brother, but he'd left the family two years ago and was living in London.

He took off the lid. Inside, there was a model.

"What do you think?"

Harry was dumbstruck, his words frozen inside his mouth. He managed to say a few. "I... um, let me take another minute to look." The model was of Godric's Hollow, the place where his parents were living when they were murdered. The sight of it, even a model version, brought memories to his brain and tears to his eyes. "Ron... I don't know what to say. Do you actually know what you have made?"

Hermione looked shocked.

"Harry, that's Godric's Hollow. It was the place where you parents died. I know because... well, because Ron made a little cardboard Dark Mark and coloured it in green," she whispered frantically. She backed away from Ron, crashing into the wardrobe. She pointed to a spot just above the model house that Harry had only noticed a few seconds ago. Harry squinted. Hermione was right about the Dark Mark.

He shivered. Even though it was only a bit of cardboard, everyone in the room except Ron was panicking. Harry was the only one in the room who, actually, had no reason to be afraid of the Dark Mark. He was really powerful, more powerful than Lord Voldemort so the Dark Mark didn't really scare him. But to see one that his best friend had made... it was pure torture. Harry could not believe what Ron had done.

Ron shook his head, his eyes wide. He looked down at the model and dropped it like it was red hot. He looked at Harry and Hermione.

"Crush it," Hermione insisted.

Ron brought down his foot onto the model, and it was crushed under his feet. Steam hissed from the cardboard chimney. Ron picked up the crushed cardboard and threw it out of the window. "I don't know why I made that. I wasn't posessed, I just... well I don't know why."


	2. Ginny's Reason

**Chapter Two: Ginny's Reason**

"Ginny is acting really weird," Ron observed over dinner.

"Maybe it's because of her hair," Bill, who had just Apparated behind Ron, said. Ron screamed.

"Maybe you scared her," he snapped at Bill, and pulled Bill's ponytail. Mrs Weasley moaned, and Ron laughed. Everyone in the room knew that she wanted to give Bill's hair a trim but couldn't, because he wouldn't let her. "Did that hurt, Bill? Are you going to let Mum trim it now?"

Bill said nothing, and Ron scowled.

"Mayhem," Bill said as he seated himself. "Fleur can't decide what colour she wants her wedding dress to be. She keeps changing it with her wand. First it was pink, then blue, then a sickly green, then purple, then black and now white. The colour it was in the first place."

"No one wants to hear about wedding plans, Bill-A-Nator," Ron said, turning pink when everyone looked at him. "What am I doing wrong? I'm allowed to call Bill names, aren't I?"

Ginny hid under the table, bright pink, as Ron joined her. "Emergency," he hissed at his sister. "Harry wants to know why your picture isn't on the clock any more, same as Percy's picture."

Ginny's face went white. "Did you tell him?"

Ron frowned. "Of course not."

"You're such a good brother, Ron, you know that? Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred or George would never have kept that secret." She held his hands and kissed him on the cheek.

"So why is your picture absent from the clock?" Ron asked after everyone else had gone outside for a walk. "I don't know the whole story, you only told me a little bit."

Ginny put a finger to her lips. "No one can ever know the truth, not even you."

Ron burst out laughing. "Really? God, Ginny, you're like Percy now. You've become so secretive that I'm not allowed to bring you breakfast on a tray anymore, in case I come in when you're kissing your boyfriend. Now you will not even tell me what I deserve to know."

Ginny snarled, jumped on him and put his nose close to her nose. He was pinned down. "Okay then, smart boy, who am I going out with?"

Ron shrugged.

"I don't know... Dean?"

Ginny's face went white. Her lips trembled at the sound of the name. "How did you know I'm going out with Dean Thomas? Have you been spying on me?"

Ron held up his hands. "No, I haven't, I swear - "

Ginny's facial features returned to the pleasant facial features of a happy girl who loved life, instead of a savage tiger who wanted to kill anyone who stepped in her path. "Okay, I guess I believe you. But come to think of it... I think I might have told you sometime last year..."

Ron laughed. "Oh, really? Well, I guess you can't kill me for knowing that you snogged Dean in the Trophy Room last year and then acted innocent in front of me, can you?" He swallowed a helping of mashed potato and then looked at her in the eyes with a triumphant smile.

"No, I guess not."

Ginny's misty smile suddenly faded and became an evil grin. "No, I can't kill you for knowing that but I can kill you for letting Harry and Hermione know." She brought out her wand, aimed it at the bridge between Ron's eyes. "Feeling scared, bro? I am not the type to give sympathy, you know."

"Please, don't do this." Ron brought out his own wand.

Everyone in theroom was silent. Ron looked around, embarassed but shocked. If everyone was watching them, then why wasn't Mrs Weasley running over to them and telling them to stop? Ron frowned. Everyone was in the room, but they were frozen. Unable to move.

Instinctively, Ron turned to Ginny and pointed his wand at her. His breathing became sharp, and forced. It hurt to find air in his lungs. "What have you done to them, Ginny? What have they ever done to you?" The room became dark all of a sudden, and it became cold. "What reason do you have for hating them so much?"

Ginny's upper lip trembled. She was showing emotion. Determined not to let Ron see this, or any other emotion she could harbour, lashed out at him with all the energy she could muster... through words. "Well... if you want this to be quick, I hate them and I hate you."

"Is there a longer answer?" Ron asked, swallowing. He didn't really want to hear what his sister had to say, but he wanted to know the reason.

The true reason for why she'd frozen them, and decided to finish off Ron last. "If I get out of this situation, you're going to be in horiffic trouble," Ron said coldly. He ducked behind the sofa, twirling his wand between his thumbs.

"So?" Ginny replied, muttering under her breath.

"Well, they were born," she said after an uncomfortable silence, the second one of the day. "I hate them because of that. Happy now?"

Ron jumped out from behind the sofa, where he'd been hiding for the past minute. "Stupefy!" The spell hit Ginny squarely in the chest and she collapsed. He then tried to unfreeze everyone else while holding Ginny in his arms. He wanted to tie her up so she couldn't hurt anyone else.

"Rope... rope, where does she keep the rope?"

Ron didn't really want to tie his sister up, but couldn't see a way out of the problem. If he left her to recover, he would also be frozen like everyone else. If he tied her up and didn't do it very well, she'd use her want to cut through the ropes and she'd freeze him anyway.

"What am I going to do?"

Ginny used her wand to burn his hand. "Let me go?"

Ron dropped her, cradled his hand and frowned. "Why are you doing this? Don't you want to be good? Don't you want to go to Hogwarts?"

Ginny shook her head.

"No, to all your questions. I'm a rebel now. I want to be my own person. I want to start by harming someone close to me and go from there."

Ron suddenly saw a way out of the problem. A way to make Ginny realise that what she wanted was to be good. Normal. "I have an idea. Hurt Malfoy for me. I'll love you forever if you make Malfoy have a fatal accident, so bad that he can't go to school this year and so bad he can never hurt me again."

Ginny's upper lip curled over. "No. I like your idea, but I like Malfoy too much to harm him. I've taken a liking to him, you see. I might shut out Dean and date him instead. I haven't decided yet." She sighed. "Actually, it's really hard to be evil. I think I'll be normal for a while."

Ron sighed, relieved.

Ginny's eyes widened. "But don't tell anyone that I need to become evil every now and then to stay alive. That was my big secret and why my picture is not on the clock anymore."

Ron gasped. He said nothing and couldn't. He fainted. When he woke up, there was silence. A pool of blood lay on the carpet in the hall, and there was a scream from Hermione. He was so weak that he couldn't go and investigate, but he had a huge suspicion in his brain.

Ginny had joined Lord Voldemort.

Or, at least, that was what Ron thought.


	3. Dark Mark

**Chapter Three: Dark Mark**

Dumbledore was riding in a carriage high above the clouds when he spotted green smoke in the air. He stopped the carriage and coughed. "Flitwick, do you think something awful has happened? Look through the clouds, you'll see smoke. It's green, and it's coming from the place where Ron Weasley lives."

Flitwick, who'd been busy reading a book when he was rudely interupted, said at once," Yes, of course something is wrong. Let's go and investigate."

"Yes." Dumbledore nodded.

"Bring her down," Flitwick said commandingly, while Dumbledore used a whip to manouver the carriage pulled by invisible Thestrals down to the ground. "I can never understand why you like to use these beasties, Dumbledore. How are you supposed to control them?"

Dumbledore opened a door.

Flitwick jumped out, and gasped in horror.

"I don't think you want to look in the direction of the house, Dumbledore, you might be shocked at what you see," he said.

"I don't think so, I know what that girl is capable of," Dumbledore said calmly, and then looked at Flitwick who looked awfully pale and shocked.

He looked at the Dark Mark above the house.

"Who do you think's dead?" Flitwick muttered in a tiny voice.

"I don't know," Dumbledore said truthfully. "We won't find out until we get inside. That is, if you'll come with me? I'd rather not find out on my own."

"I'll come." Flitwick nodded meekly.

He watched Dumbledore pat thin air for a few seconds, praising the Thestrals, and then they walked down the path together. Towards the house.

Dumbedore pressed on a panel of wood and the front door swung open. There, lying on the floor, motionless, was Ginny's father Mr Weasley. He had not been stabbed or shot, as far as Dumbledore and Flitwick could see, but killed by one of the three Unforgivable Curses.

"Who could've done this?" Flitwick hissed in Dumbledore's ear.

"I told you before, perhaps you did not pick up my clue," Dumledore said. "I said 'I don't think so, I know what that girl is capable of' and still you don't know who it is?"

Flitwick was confused. "No. I don't know."

"Well, think," Dumbledore hissed, while conjuring up a magical hospital stretcher and telephone. "Think about who could have done this and I'll ring St Mungo's and inform them that they have a serious case to attend to. They've had Arthur in before, they will know what to do."

Flitwick knelt down and felt Arthur's body. "He's stone cold, Dumbledore. His lips are blue. Do you seriously think they'd be able to bring him back to life?"

"No." Dumbledore's face fell.

Fliwick smiled weakly. "The best thing to do would be to give Arthur a decent funeral, Dumbledore, and make sure everyone who knew him attends."

"He'd like that," Dumledore said.

"Yes, I know. That's why you should arrange it for him," Flitwick said. He looked at Arthur's body. "What are we going to do with him in the meantime?"

Dumbledore heard someone cough, but ignored it. "I think we should try and get him into our carriage, see if the Thestrals will pull with the extra weight."

Flitwick blinked back tears. "Doubt it, but all we can do is try. I don't want to touch him, Dumbledore, if that's okay. Can we just levitate him?" He wondered if Arthur had seen his attacker. Which Weasley had done it? Dumbledore had said it was a girl so it couldn't have been Ron.

But why, why would Ron want to hurt his father?

If it was Ron. Dumbledore could be wrong. Dumbledore was often wrong. It could have been a boy. It might not even have been a member of the Weasley family, either. It could have been Lord Voldemort. The most shocking revelation Flitwick thought and experienced, as he helped to leviatate Arthur out of the house and down the lane, was that it could have been anyone that could have killed him.

Anyone.


	4. Veritaserum

**Chapter Four: Veritaserum**

"Well done, girl," a cold voice muttered, looking at the house (which was now lop-sided due to the horiffic event that had happened between the walls). "You've done exactly as I asked. You killed Arthur, which is great. Yes, I know he was your father and it really was rather horrible to kill him... but you've helped me."

Ginny, who was hidden behind a wardrobe cowering in horror, could not speak. She didn't want to be under the Imperius curse anymore. It was awful. It was awful to perform horrible, heartless tasks that an evil wizard wanted you to do. She was under his power and couldn't stop the Imperius curse. No one could, only him. Ginny had been on the point of asking him to do this but then realised she would be killed for disobeying him.

"I... I didn't want to do it sir." She swallowed as she waited for his answer.

"Well, you did, and what you did will help me to gain power." His eyes flashed cruelly at her. "Now, I have my next set of instructions."

Ginny dreaded these moments.

"Go on, sir." She swallowed again and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her left ear.

"I wish for you to part with your mother. Molly will be under my power once she is dead, don't worry, sweetie. Now, go and do this and report back to me."

Ginny's eyes flashed yellow. She crushed the paper cup she was holding, and threw it at him. Her breathing had become short, sharp and forced. "No. I'm not going to kill her. There's no way I'd do that."

Police crews, cars and a crane had assembled outside the Weasley's house. Harry, who had escaped after Ginny had frozen him by using a non-verbal spell to melt ice, was watching all the action unfold from a bush about half a mile away. Ron was with him. Having managed to unfreeze himself, Harry had woken Ron from his dream after being knocked out by running ice cubes along Ron's legs. Together they had then unfrozen Hermione, Mrs Weasley, Luna and Bill. They hadn't been able to find Mr Weasley, since he hadn't been in the room at the time.

"Mr Weasley's been killed," Hermione muttered.

Ron looked round in horror, mouth agape. His ears went red. "Why? Why would anyone want to kill our dad? I thought he was going to die two years ago. If that was an attempt on his life, why didn't they finish him off then? Why now? Hermione, please. I'm going mad here."

Hermione rubbed her hands together.

"They nearly killed him when they used that snake," she said at once. "Why, then, didn't they instruct the snake to attack again and finish him off?"

"Ginny killed him," Ron said to himself.

Hermione brought out a book, and gasped. "What? Ginny killed her father? Ron, do you have evidence for this? Oh, if she did I really want her to be found out."

"She tried to kill me," said Ron coldly. "I have a burn mark here, look." He showed Hermione his arm. There was a deep purple bruise. Ron bit his lip. "Wrong arm. Hang on." He showed her his other arm, where a crimson burn was tattooed onto his skin. Hermione put a hand to her mouth. "She burned me with her wand. I dropped her, then she knocked me out. Harry rescued me and here I am."

Hermione nodded.

"So she must have killed him," Ron finished logically.

Harry kept quiet through this conversation. He hadn't yet told Ron or Hermione that he'd been inside the snake's body when it attacked Mr Weasley - but only in his dream. It wasn't real life. He wasn't a snake. He also couldn't believe that Ginny would join Voldemort when she had fought against him two years ago. What had made her change her mind?

Hermione gave him a goblet of smoking golden water. "Drink it, Harry. It's Veritaserum, but it's supposed to be clear. I've put too many beetle eyes into it."

Harry, who wondered why Hermione wasn't panicking because her potion was the slightest bit wrong, took the goblet from her and drank all the Veritaserum in one sip. "Not much, was there?"

Hermione looked at him with daggers in her eyes. "I couldn't make much. The storecupboard in your house, Ron, is really feeble and lacks ingredients," she told Ron. He raised his eyebrows and pouted. "Ron. I'm joking. Harry, I couldn't make much at all because it was with fear of getting caught in the process."

"Oh, I understand. Did you make extra for me?" Ron mumbled.

"Yes," Hermione said smoothly, taking out a second goblet from her bag and also a small bottle of Veritaserum. "You can pour it yourself, okay?"

Ron held the goblet between two nimble fingers. "Do I have to drink it out of a goblet? Can't I swallow it from the bottle? I'm used to doing that." He looked longingly at the tiny bottle that held the powerful potion.

Hermione shrugged. "Okay."

Ron handed her back the goblet, unscrewed the cork with his sharp fingernail and drank the entire contents of the bottle. Hermione gasped. "Ron, you shouldn't have taken that much. The Veritaserum in that bottle is ten times stronger than the one that Snape makes," she said frantically.

Ron, who appeared to be drunk, shook his hand. "So what?"

Harry put a hand on Hermione left shoulder. "Hermione, Snape isn't a teacher anymore. Who's saying that he still makes that potion? He probably only did it while at Hogwarts."

Hermione ignored him. "Ron, we'll have to get Molly to see if she can cure you. I didn't mean for the experiment to go this far and only wanted you to tell the truth for a while. I wanted to know what really happened when Harry and I were frozen. That's all I wanted to know."

Harry frowned.

"Well, then, why did you give me Veritaserum if your plan was to give it to Ron?"

Hermione took a deep breath. Her eyes were red around the edges, possibly from sadness or anger. Harry didn't know why her eyes were odd and didn't want to ask. "I don't know why, Harry. I guess I'm just truth-hungry. Maybe I wanted to know the truth about every lie you've ever told."

Harry said nothing. He couldn't. The Veritaserum was already working, and he knew it would only be a few minutes until he would start telling Hermione the truth about everything in his life. Hermione had moved away from them. She was sitting on a rock and wiping her eyes.

Harry immediately felt sorry for her.


	5. Side Effects

**Chapter Five: Side Effects**

The next morning, Ginny was not at the breakfast table with them. This was because the Ministry Police Wizards had taken her for questioning. Mrs Weasley was bustling over a hot stove, crying loudly. Cups of cinnamon hot chocolate were next to her, and she had drunk six of them.

Hermione was helping her to cook breakfast, consoling her.

"I'm sure the person who killed him was jealous of him," Hermione said brightly, despite being sad inside. "Arthur was really nice. He was a good wizard, with sweet children, and the person who did the deed must've been upset that they couldn't be like him and have his life."

Mrs Weasley nodded.

"You are so sweet, Hermione, trying to make me feel better. I know Arthur's gone and he'll never come back, and I've got to get over his death."

"He will probably be a ghost, y'know," Hermione said.

"Maybe," said Mrs Weasley spacely, drying up the last dish with a confused look on her face. She'd begun drying up two minutes previously, due to the fact that Ron was looking at her with wide red eyes. She had her wand with her, and therefore was able to dry up much more quickly than Muggle women.

"Don't worry about his death, Mrs Weasley. You'll find someone else like Arthur, but nobody will ever be able to replace him in your heart," Hermione whispered. "Now, because of this problem that occured - Arthur's death - I haven't heard anything about how we are to get to school this year."

"Arrange transport yourselves, please. Hermione, I believe you know how to use a telephone? I don't, and the Ministry of Magic aren't talking to me anymore so I can't get cars from them anymore to take you to King's Cross. You'll have to book a couple of cabs if that's okay." Mrs Weasley dried her hands on her apron and slipped it over her head. "I'm sorry I'm not up to much, dear. You can cope on your own, am I right?"

Hermione nodded. "Leave it to me, Mrs Weasley, I'll be fine."

Harry was desperately trying to ignore the sharp pain in his stomach from the Veritaserum. "It doesn't usually have this effect on me - why now?"

Ron shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe because it's ten times stronger than the one you drank at school. I managed to read a book last week, and it said that if the drinker delays telling the truth after taking strong Veritaserum then they'll pay dearly. At the time I wasn't sure what that meant."

"Do you know now, though?" Harry asked, biting his tongue. "Ohh," he moaned. "If only I'd told the truth yesterday, then I would be fine and these pains wouldn't have existed." He moaned in pain, then. "Ohh, it felt like someone just stabbed me. Try and remember that book, Ron. Did it say anything about how to stop pains after denying the truth when you drink Veritaserum? It should have something about that."

"Maybe you should just tell the truth," Ron said logically. "Maybe the pain will go then. I told the truth, and I'm not rolling on my bed and holding my stomach to try and stop the pain. Sometimes you don't think about what will happen afterwards when you do something or take something, and it turns against you, doesn't it?"

His words felt like a knife to Harry's heart.

"Yeah," Harry said. "I suppose it does. I'm going to find Hermione and tell the truth, but I want you with me. My mouth will stay shut if you don't come and support me."

He got up off the bed, bit his lip as pain soared through his stomach, and fell down onto the covers. "Ron... tell Hermione to come here, that'll be best."

"Okay, mate," Ron said, and disappeared out the door. Harry rolled on his stomach, moaning. Why had he not told her the truth when he had the chance? Hermione came rushing through the door, Ron at her side.

"Ohh, Harry, Harry," she said, frightened. "Why did you deny the truth? You'll have to tell me now or we may not have a chance to save you. Now, I have three questions. One: how come you never read books? Two: why did you unfreeze Ron first and not me? Three: what is the truth behind every single lie you have told me since you first met me on that train? Come on, my ears are waiting to hear your voice."

Ron, who thought Hermione was incredibly talented and knowledgeable at the best of times, shrugged. "What? What sort of questions are those, Hermione?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Well, obviously, ones that I want answers to," she whispered. Ron noticed that she was clasping her wand behind her back, unknown to Harry. Ron was tempted to tell Harry about it, but then decided against doing so. It was better to see Harry look surprised, rather than smug.

For ten seconds, a horrible silence entered the room and circled around their heads. Ron knew it was an atmosphere you could cut with a knife, but said nothing. Hermione was twirling a strand of her brown curly hair around her finger, red eyes staring at Ron extremely sadly.

Harry crept out the room. Ron didn't notice until he turned round, looking for Harry, and couldn't see him anywhere.

"Harry, where are you?" Ron asked, genuinely worried.

Hermione grabbed his shoulders, tears in her eyes. These eyes were wide with shock, and red with tears. She looked frantically around the room. Empty. "Ron. I can't find him. He's gone."


	6. The Plan

**Chapter Six: The Plan**

Harry was outside. He couldn't stand Ron or Hermione right now. Everyone wanted to know about Mr Weasley, and it was getting on his nerves. He sat down on the grass, shivering. It was good to be alone. He didn't like people crowding on him all the time. It was uncomfortable.

A cold hand touched his shoulder.

"Do you want me to go?"

Harry turned round, and looked up into the smiling face of Nearly Headless Nick. "I came to see you when I heard about Arthur. Peeves wanted to come, but I said no. He wanted to drop water bombs on you."

Harry couldn't help feeling a little better. "Okay."

Nick gasped. "Okay? So you're fine with getting soaked? He was making hundreds of water bombs, Harry."

The truth was that Harry didn't really care what happened to himself, he just wanted to go back in time and fix this mess before it happened. "No. I don't mind. But I do want to know – why are you here?"

Nick frowned and twirled his thumbs together. "Well. I don't really know. I guess I have feelings for you."

Harry was nearly sick.

"What? That's ridiculous!"

Nick's ghostly white face was going red. He tugged at his collar and brought out a small mirror. He watched his face turn bloody, even though no blood had been spilt. "No, Harry. I do not love you. Not like that. I love you like a friend. When you get upset, I get upset. That's all. I wanted to come and comfort you."

Harry smiled at him.

Nick was such a good friend, even if he was ghost.

Hermione was in tears. Literally. Ron was having trouble walking. "How could I have been really stupid?" Hermione moaned, wiping her eyes. "I should never have forced him to tell the truth, or drink Veritaserum!"

"Yeah, that was bad," Ron added, which of course didn't help Hermione to feel better. "I suggest a search, or at least inform Dumbledore that Harry is missing. We can't let him be out on his own – not with a murderer on the loose. You know very well, Hermione, that Harry is the next target on the list."

Hermione said nothing.

"It's true," Ron mumbled, ears red.

"I know," Hermione said. "I'm just having trouble thinking. Why would Harry leave? He knows what danger he's in."

"Maybe he doesn't," Ron said, walking towards the fireplace with a match. He was proud of himself. Recently, he had been on a trek with his father and they'd learnt everything that Muggles did while camping.

He lit the fire, and both of them sat on cushions in front of it to warm themselves. "Ron – you are a lifesaver."

"I am?" Ron enquired.

"Yes," Hermione said, ruffling his ginger hair. "Give me two sheets of paper and pencils. I have a plan."

Ron couldn't help but smile at her. He'd known that she'd find a way to get them out of this problem, as she'd done all the other times trouble loomed. He handed her the papers, and a pencil, and watched in fascination as words appeared on the paper. Then she drew a whole bunch of complicated-looking machines and rolled the paper up. She slipped some string round the paper to hold it together.

"Here. Make them for me," she hissed in Ron's ear, handing him the scroll.

Ron wondered why Hermione wanted Ron to make the machines. He couldn't use magic yet and the only good engineer in the Weasley family was his father. His dead father. Yes, Mr Weasley had shown Ron how to put together a basic machine, but Ron couldn't remember how to do this anymore.

"Um… Hermione…"

Hermione had been applying nail-polish to her left hand.

"Uh – nothing. Sorry I disturbed you." Ron put on what he called his inventing glasses. Thick rimmed and creepy, they actually helped him to figure out where to put all the nuts and bolts that Hermione had marked on the paper.

An hour later, Ron remarked: "Done! God, I'm so proud of myself."

"I am too, Ronnie," Hermione whispered in a sexy sort of way. "Ron, sorry I said that – I really didn't mean it."

"Huh? What didn't you mean?"

Ron hadn't been listening. He'd been looking at the gnomes in his back garden with a nice smile on his face.

He loved the gnomes.


End file.
